Poof on the Roof
by NicestSpawnOfSatanYouNeverMet
Summary: This was a Merchant of Venice story for school.  When Bassanio and Antonio first meet they seem to have a simple friendship.  But it morphs into having two sides, a side of abuse, and one of love.  Antonio/Bassanio.  Please read and review!


Author's Note: This was a short story written for school, though it turned out to be more like a fanfic than a school project. I got an A on it if you're wondering. It is rated T for slash elements (but no actual action) and language. Enjoy!

This story is dedicated to Critchely.

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><p>"Ouch!" he cried, jamming his finger into his mouth. Gently feeling it with his tongue, Antonio's suspicions were confirmed, it was a splinter. He pulled his finger out and looked at it in all of its red tender entirety. He lifted up the wooden crate he had dropped and made his way down the gangplank. The cool Venice air brushed strands of hair out of Antonio's ponytail. He balanced the crate on his hip while tucking the hair behind his ear.<p>

"Let me help you with that," said a low voice whose arms relieved Antonio of the crate.

"Oh, why, thank you," Antonio said, spinning on his heel to face his savior, "and what may I ask is your name?"

"Bassanio," he smiled, "a simple dock worker at the moment, handyman of all trades."

Antonio looked the fellow up and down examining his short black hair, sun-tarnished skin, warm brown eyes, and wide smile. His shirtless torso shimmered with light sweat and was gently chiseled to reflect years of labor and strength. Antonio felt a strange tingle in his stomach as he asked, "Would you mind helping my crew and me unload the rest of the crates from my merchant ship?"

Bassanio smiled, resting his hands on his hips and leaning against a post on the dock. "A merchant ship, aye? Well, it is both my job and my pleasure," he replied, patting Antonio's shoulder.

Antonio tucked another strand of brown hair behind his ear. "Excellent! Most excellent! Yes we could definitely use your help," and he led the way back up the gangplank.

A short while later the two of them sat around the table in Antonio's small kitchen, drinking lukewarm wine. Antonio was a man of respect, flattery, and generosity. When Antonio felt strongly about someone, these attributes smothered the bit of sense and logic he contained. Though the table was laden with oils, herbs, breads, and wine, he simply sat there with his hands crossed beneath his chin. His guest ate eagerly in between telling stories about his daily life. The gauzy white shirt Antonio had given him hung from his muscular frame will the beauty of water flowing over smooth rocks. He had a sense of elegance about him, a bit of his chest peeking out of the top of the shirt. A drop of dipping oil dropped from a piece of bread and onto this particular spot of skin. Bassanio reached for a napkin but Antonio stretched his arm across the table and wiped the oil off with his fingers. He let his fingers linger on Bassanio's chest, feeling the intense warmth and steady beat of his pulse echoing through his body. He rested his hand there just a moment too long for Bassanio stood from the table abruptly, thanked Antonio curtly, and left the house swiftly. Antonio cradled his face in his hands, oil and all, longing for his time with Bassanio to never be cut short but continue day after day.

Little did Antonio know but his dream lived into a reality. Every day after that, Bassanio would show up to help with whatever needed to be done and afterwards Antonio would have him over for food and wine. Though Antonio did not have the money to be so giving, he bought Bassanio luxury items such as lavish foods and expensive garments. He would also give over jewels with the sparkle of the sun, and ducats by the handful. Antonio found that the more lavish the gift, the longer Bassanio would stay with him. Antonio was willing to pay the world for those times with Bassanio, every moment more valuable than all the ducats in Venice.

After many fortnights of these processions, Antonio met Bassanio by the entrance to the dock. Seeing Antonio from afar, Bassanio jogged over, his smile gleaming so brightly as to cause Antonio's breath to sharply enter and feel as though it would never come out. "Antonio, how are you? What will we treat ourselves with today? Food, wine, or a new pair of shoes for me?"

Antonio bit his lip and grinned, wrapping his arm around Bassanio's waist tightly. Bassanio used to grunt and push him off when he did that formerly, but a grand bag of ducats seemed to change his mind. The two walked closely down the street until Bassanio stopped short, "Antonio, what on Earth are you wearing?" Antonio blushed deeply and looked down at his garb. "That wouldn't happen to be a dress would it?"

"Of course not," Antonio replied, his face turning redder. "It is simply an extremely long tunic."

"Well why is it pink? Everyone in Venice knows pink is a woman's color."

"It is not pink; it is simply very light red,"

Bassanio and Antonio looked at each other in silence for a few moments before Bassanio shook his head and laughed and they began to make their way over to Antonio's house. Once inside, Antonio opened a hatch door in the ceiling and the orange glow of the sunset blinded them both. "Where are we?" Bassanio marveled.

"This is the roof of my house. There is quite a view. You can almost see the docks from here, look!"

Bassanio followed his point, "Yes I see, but let us not be reminded of work. Let us rest and relax as two friends,"

"Yes, two very good friends with so much love for each other!"

"Um, yes, two friends. Now, do you have some food or wine, or maybe another token of our friendship for me?"

"I do have food and wine. As for the token, is the presence of my body and soul not enough of a token to show my love?" Antonio smiled.

"It is fine for now, but how am I to remember that you are my friend when we are apart?"

"How could you forget? But no matter, I will give you my shoes so you can take them with you and remember my deep love,"

"Yes, well, the wine?"

Antonio poured two glasses, and as the sun shrunk, so did the amount of liquid in the wine bottle. Soon another was fetched, and then another and another. The sun was long gone, and Bassanio's consciousness was soon to follow it. "One more drink, Antonio?"

"No, my dear beloved Bassanio, I think you have had enough. Your body is about to go still and how am I to enjoy your presence when you are not here to talk to me and sooth me with your voice?"

Bassanio tried to prop himself up with one arm but failed terribly. "Antonio, you are one strange man. If you had not spent all of your money on your dress then you would have another bottle to give me. Me, poor Bassanio. I spend every day with you, let you hold me and let you say the secrets of your mind with no ridicule, yet you have no wine for me?"

"Though I barely understood that through your slurring, you are quite eloquent for a drunk. Oh no Bassanio! Your eyes have dropped and your body gone limp! What should I do with you now?" Antonio's expression of distress slowly turned to one of satisfaction. He held up Bassanio's unconscious head and spoke to it, "You say you let me hold you and tell you my secrets, but you have felt and learned nothing! Oh Bassanio!"

Antonio lay on his back next to the unconscious Bassanio on the roof, gazing up at the stars. "Oh Bassanio, if only you knew the love I have for you. If only you knew how I feel as though I am going to explode inside! Every time I see you, Bassanio, I feel this great swelling eruption that I cannot define! It goes beyond any feeling I have ever felt before. The feeling brings tremors throughout my body and burning heat even when it is freezing cold in the air! The feeling keeps me up at night, simply laying there, thoughts racing. There were some nights when the feelings were just too much to bear. Sometimes I would spend the entire night vomiting, hoping to purge himself of not just my food but my feelings as well. Other nights I will lay in bed and get a deep ache in my arms as though they needed to hold someone, they needed a body to lie beside them! Though I know you cannot hear me, Bassanio, I wish you could understand the passion I have for you. It is not simply the love of two friends but it feels like more. I would give anything for you, Bassanio! I have never felt as attached to a human as the way I am with you. I would even admit to the fact that, yes, I am wearing a dress if it would simply bring that smile to your face. I feel like we are tied to each other by connected nooses. When one of them drops, the other person is dragged down as well!"

Antonio sat up and began to shake Bassanio's shoulders, the mist of tears beginning to build up in his eyes, "Bassanio! If only we could figure this out! If only my love was returned as strongly. I would not be shaking your shoulders tonight but rather be cradled in your sober arms asleep on the rooftop!" Antonio let Bassanio drop and he lay beside him. He crossed his arms on his chest and gazed at the stars. "Bassanio, if only I could tell these things to you, not to your drunken body that does not know me from a dog," Antonio held Bassanio in his arms. "Bassanio, if only we could speak freely and I don't have to pretend I'm not wearing a dress and that it isn't pink," Antonio rested his head in the nook of Bassanio's neck. "Oh Bassanio," he muttered as he drifted off to sleep.

Bassanio woke with a terrible aching head. He found himself laying on a rooftop with a mouth as dry as flour and dull pain in his shoulders. Covering his eyes from the morning sunlight, he fumbled his way to the trapdoor and tripped down some stairs into Antonio's kitchen. Antonio stood stirring something on the stove he turned and called, "Morning, drowsy, maybe if you hadn't tipped back so much wine you could have been able to help me with breakfast,"

"Don't yell, you know I am practically dead." Antonio slid some food onto Bassanio's plate and slapped his cheek lightly with the spoon. As Bassanio wolfed down his breakfast Antonio continued to playfully slap his face with the spoon. "Will you cut that out?" Bassanio yelled, grabbing the spoon and flinging it across the kitchen. Antonio pouted. Bassanio shook his head into his food and once he was done Antonio escorted him out.

"Is that a new dress, it looks to be a different shade of pink," Bassanio smirked.

Antonio gave a forced laugh, "Oh Bassanio you sly little fox. You're as sassy as a cat with the swagger of a dagger!"

Bassanio laughed, "Honestly Antonio, you are getting stranger by the day. You should be speaking about yourself!"

Antonio gave an unforced laugh; he was pleased with that description, "So how did you sleep last night?"

"Well, I was drunk, so not well. I did dream rather vividly. I dreamed about true love, a love so strong that it makes you sick and sore but also so happy. I dreamed my lover shook me by the shoulders and then lay beside me under the stars."

Antonio's eyes grew big and glossy and his smile widened.

"And when I turned over," Bassanio continued, "you wouldn't believe who my lover was in the dream!"

Antonio began to whimper with excitement, his heart beating loudly in his chest.

"It was fair Portia, from Belfast! Can you believe it? I had completely forgotten about her, and this dream reminded me of my love for her! The things she said were so passionate and so true! I have decided, dear Antonio, that I will find her and marry her and she will be my love of all time!"

Antonio's face had frozen in its smile but on the inside the towers were crashing down. Antonio thought to himself, _All is lost, all destroyed, and all for Portia of Belfast! Portia of Belfast? Honestly, sure, she had money and is sort of pretty. Just sort of pretty! How could_ _Bassanio pick her over me! I am so merry and gay all of the time! And Portia is just a drab cloth! My dress-tunic has more personality than her! I am lively and sassy even when he is drunk on my roof! And he barely knows her, whereas I am his best friend! I, his friend, so sassy and gay, would be put behind Portia? Portia of Belfast! She has nothing, nothing compared to me! No brains, no passion, no respect, no sensibility! She's just a stupid bitch! Oh how I despise her…but… if she makes Bassanio happy, then maybe that could make me happy to see him happy. I do love Bassanio so much that all I want is his happiness. But Portia? Honestly! Portia of Belfast!_

Through his internal rampage Antonio kept the same smile plastered upon his face. He took a deep breath and replied to Bassanio, "That is wonderful! She is a lovely girl! If you need any help in your courtship of her, simply let me know. I wish you luck and congratulations on your love!"

Bassanio smiled and waved, jogging off towards the dock. Antonio bit his lip as his eyes began to leak. And there Bassanio ran, out of Antonio's grasp, and ultimately out of his life. Though they would still be friends, and Antonio would never stop loving him, something was different and something had changed. The tables had turned and Antonio was crushed after simply that night on the roof.

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><p>Author's Note: You reached the bottom of the story! Thanks for reading and please review. It would make me ever so jolly!<p> 


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